


Wilderness Heart

by 655321



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Republic Commando Series - Karen Traviss, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: 79's, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Porn, Anonymous Sex, Barebacking, Bathroom Sex, Cock Piercing, Cock Rings, Cock Worship, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Glory Hole, M/M, Mando'a, Marathon Sex, Porn with Feelings, Public Blow Jobs, Rimming, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:07:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23265940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/655321/pseuds/655321
Summary: For clone troops, the understanding of physical affection ranged from an easy familiarity to suspicion. For some, it was even alarming. Some ignored him, or treated him with pointed aggression when he was too forward with them.Some accepted his charms whole-heartedly. Some liked to get romantic, others preferred a more detached affair. Many were simply curious.
Relationships: CC-1004 | Gree/Original Male Character(s), CT-7567 | Rex/Original Male Character(s), CT-782 | Hevy/Original Character(s), Clone Troopers (Star Wars)/Original Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 24





	1. 1 - Gree

**Author's Note:**

> I thought I was just gonna write a glory hole fic but I guess I'm too demi for that.....  
> *title is "Wilderness Heart" by Black Mountain
> 
> Fic playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3qjXXzXTTOY5yythzIdT2U?si=sfzdrO2GQj6XwS0UzjSn0w  
> Dar's character playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3BjdtO5AlwZITiLXvSRPvF?si=vmxMd7JXRbCKqzOS7MS8GA
> 
> Mando'a:  
> *vod(e) - brother(s)  
> *ori’vod - big brother  
> *Mando’ad - Mandalorian  
> *Mand’alor - Mandalorian sole ruler  
> *Ni ceta - I'm sorry, lit. "I kneel"  
> *Beskaryc Kar'ta - iron heart, the diamond design on Mandalorian armor

\------

20BBY, third year of the Clone Wars

-

By nature they were gentle, even kind. The irony wasn't lost on him. They had been bred for war, engineered for docility, and trained to be perfect soldiers. They could be ruthless, but they were also considerate. He knew that they’d been designed for it, but he couldn’t help seeing it as a Mandalorian value inherited from their forebear. They were polite by default, usually. It was difficult for them to disregard anyone who wasn’t an enemy. They were curious, and quick to learn.

It was rare that, business concluded, a clone would only adjust himself, grunt in an awkward combined apology-gratitude, and then shuffle back into the bar. Many enough were more concerned about being seen at the bar with a beautiful woman, even if only to show off for their brothers. 

Most at least left a few credits behind for his trouble. Which was appreciated, though not the reason he’d taken to ending nights on his knees in a fresher stall in the back of 79’s. More often than not, he’d be interrupted before they finished. They’d want to see his face, hear his voice, go home with him. Anonymity wasn’t valued among clones. The irony wasn’t lost on him.

-

A clone entered and moved toward the next fresher on the wall. The partly opaque hard light partition generated on approach for modesty's sake. The two men stood closer than arm's length, facing a wall that'd been tagged by _vode_ from across the galaxy. Dar was caught up in it - the art. 

It was another moment before he realized the _vod_ was openly staring at him. He slid his eyes inconspicuously to the clone and noted a distinct and familiar haircut. In the dim light he thought maybe the trooper's hair looked unusually light, but he couldn't be sure. He let his gaze linger on the _vod_ and his body language, but there wasn't much to go on standing at the fresher. He wondered if he'd met this _vod_ before but, if that were the case he assumed the soldier would have greeted him. The _vod_ wore his greys sloppily; blazer unbuttoned, no bother for the cap. He was more likely infantry than the usual starship gunners and fighter pilots who took pride in keeping their formal gear shiny. Infantrymen didn't get to break out the fatigues too often.

After a moment, it was silent in the room, and still neither of them had moved. They were both standing there, dicks out, skimpy light partitions between them. Dar turned his head to look plainly at the _vod._ The clone had begun to lean, just those few inches one needed to peek over the partition to see the other's package clearly. The _vod_ was staring at it openly, shameless, but saying nothing.

"You can touch it if you want," the bounty hunter offered, his voice disturbing the silence and startling the _vod._

 _And then_ the clone looked him in the eye.

And then his gaze dropped to the man’s chest where his shirt was open, where the familiar diamond of the Mandalorian _Beskaryc Kar'ta_ was tattooed on his sternum.

"Really?" the _vod_ asked, in a whisper.

The clone hesitated, eyes dropping back to the other man's -

"If -" the hunter conditioned.

It made the _vod_ smile, slowly. The space between them warmed. The _vod_ let out a breath that made tension crackle.

"You kiss me first," Dar requested. Then he wondered again over the _vod's_ familiarity. "And tell me your name," he tacked on. It was always nice to know.

"In that order?" the _vod_ asked, teasing at the hesitation.

He used a husky bedroom voice that seemed suddenly out of character. Dar wondered again, _wait, did he know this vod?_

The clone was smirking now, his eyes on Dar's lips, his beard, his exposed clavicle under his open collar.

The Mando could see he was hard. He took a glance, a breath, and then answered, "not necessarily."

It had barely left this mouth before the clone pulled the bounty hunter to him by his open shirt. When the _vod_ kissed him, he didn't need to know his name. The soldier's lips were hungry, but he retained a finesse that was familiar.

"Gree -" the hunter growled between kisses.

"Good job, Mando," the soldier chuckled, a little breathlessly as the hunter attacked his throat.

"Thought I recognized you."

The _vod_ liked that. A lot. He was hard and squirming in the Mando's arms.

"You know I can think of at least three other _vode_ with that haircut," he grumbled jovially and let Gree push him up against a fresher stall.

Fortunately Gree was in high spirits just now. The Forty-First Elite had grabbed some recent victories, and he hadn't lost any brothers too recently. So he didn't snap at the hunter about the double stripe _._

"You'll probably see it alot more. It's getting popular," the Commander growled.

Dar knew immediately that he'd stepped in it. He could sense the invisible tension that rose in the _vod's_ more aggressive movements as he tore open the hunter's shirt and pants.

 _"Ni ceta,"_ said the _Mando’ad_.

Gree stopped, heat venting from their moment. Gree could tell the hunter felt something was wrong. Dar could learn so much about them, but there was so much he could never know.

"It's okay, _vod,_ " the Commander replied. And then he explained, tersely, because, well, the Mando should know. "We wear it for fallen _vode._ "

The hunter said nothing, only stood there with his head low. They both flagged. Gree didn't like it so he ground his hips against the Mando's until they were both hard again. Then it dawned on him. The Commander grinned and tilted the hunter's face to his.

"Did you say something about kneeling, _ori’vod?_ "

Dar grinned, happy for a chance to make amends for his thoughtlessness.

Gree held Dar's face for a moment longer, the clone's hunger overtaking his elegant precision as he shoved his tongue into the hunter's mouth. Then he let the Mando kneel for him. The instant the hunter had taken him in hand - immediately smacking Gree's swollen shaft against his cheek, and then bouncing the glans against his tongue - the tense moment was forgotten. Gree stroked the white shock of hair that striped the center of the hunter's scalp. Dar looked up at the clone, and the soldier grinned before he let his hips fuck the man's mouth. The Mando groaned and squeezed the Commander's firm ass with both hands. The clone Commander cursed and moaned, using the hunter’s mouth for their shared pleasure. His knees went a little weak and he had to lean his weight forward against the fresher stall. He cursed in Mando’a, Huttese, and a couple more languages Dar didn’t even recognize.  
Dar enjoyed the familiar girth and heft of the _vod_ dick in his mouth; comforting, exciting. He’d felt so many, identical, but completely unique. Each and every one felt like home. He knew, deep in his mind, that he’d never have anything as good as this, right here, right now. He’d never be as connected to his people as he was with this army cloned from a _Mand’alor_. So he didn’t lament that _this_ \- this political, _dishonorable_ war - would include the best years of his life. He was most alive _now_ \- regardless of the circumstances. The reason to fight didn’t matter - he was a Mandalorian.


	2. 2 - Dar and Bardan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3qjXXzXTTOY5yythzIdT2U?si=sfzdrO2GQj6XwS0UzjSn0w
> 
> Dar's character playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3BjdtO5AlwZITiLXvSRPvF?si=vmxMd7JXRbCKqzOS7MS8GA
> 
>   
> *all Mando'a translations are from mandoa.org
> 
> *(general note that "kit" is slang for gear, as in weapons, armor, pack, etc.)
> 
> *pronunciation note: Verd'yc (VAIR-deesh)
> 
> *Elek (or 'lek) - yes  
> *vod'ika - little brother  
> *ad'ika - son, lad, boy  
> *jetti - jedi  
> *udesii - calm down, take it easy (command)  
> *udes - rest, leisure  
> *Kal'buir - Papa Kal  
> *Me'vaar ti gar? - lit. "what's new with you?" Used to ask for situation report.  
> *beskar'gam - Mandalorian armor
> 
> *"Nulls" : an early batch of clone commandos with an experimental genotype that made them heavier in build than other commando batches  
> *Cuy'val dar : one hundred individuals selected by Jango Fett to act as training sergeants to clone troops. Seventy-five of the one hundred were Mandalorians.  
> *Dha Werda Varda : a Mandalorian ritual battle chant and ritual dance. Literally translated as "warriors of shadow," or "dark shadow warriors," the phrase is derived from the Taung epic poem. As the Taung declined in population, they created the war chant and constructed the ritual dance known formally as "The Rage of the Shadow Warriors." ( https://youtu.be/arE05kDaDVc )

\----- 

22BBY, first year of the Clone Wars

-

"You want to _enlist?_ "

"Yes sir."

Kal Skirata evaluated the bulky young man standing before him. He wore battered cobalt armor with grey and black markings. The Velabri's face matched his armor: slate grey complexion, white hair in a stripe down his scalp, dusky blue pupiless eyes, and a heavy brow.

He had approached the base on foot, without a visible weapon. Skirata recognized the subtle outline of a hold-out blaster as the lad walked toward him. If he had a vehicle, he'd left it out of range of the garrison's security patrol. 

When he halted a respectful distance from Skirata, he stood with practiced posture and removed his helmet. He didn't salute the way soldiers did, but instead gave a half-bow to Skirata.

The elder _Mando'ad_ responded with a good-natured _"elek?"_ He made it sound like a greeting. Then he asked for a sit-rep: _"Me'vaar ti gar?"_

It made Dar feel like he was already a soldier to the _Mando'ad._ No introductions occured. The lad already knew who the sergeant was, after all. He was coming to the elder in humility. Kal Skirata was the closest thing he had to a _Mand'alor._

The thought struck Dar like lightning, and he tried not to show how he was sweating. 

Dar responded in _Mando'a._ The elder continued to speak it exclusively, sensing that it would comfort the boy to use it with someone. There was no reason to use anything else. 

The lad was clearly ready to be a soldier. Not many young _Mando'ade_ took to that; individualism ran strong among them in exile. He carried himself with confidence and had the attentive, calculated gaze of a man who could take orders . He was built like a tree : thick with solid muscle, comparable to Nulls in physique. He looked to be in his mid-twenties, and that was still a _boy_ in Skirata's eyes. He possessed a feral air, as if he hid a wilderness behind his stoic face.

\-----

The lad made it clear that he wasn't expecting a command position; he hadn't earned it. He wanted to be among family, and he wanted to prove himself to his _vode._ Skirata correctly guessed him to be an orphan of Galidraan. The _beskar'gam_ the young _Mando'ad_ wore gave silent testimony of the decade after the battle that had left him without a home. The armor was mis-matched, and showed the scars of having been patched several times. Some pieces appeared inherited, and others looked homemade. For a moment, Skirata wondered over the lad's life in exile, without a clan. There was still much for him to learn, but he looked like he already had a few lessons of his own to teach.

Skirata thought that his boys could use all the Mandalorian influence they could get, and it might do them well to have a _Mando'ad_ around who was a _vode_ , not a sergeant . And if he provided any perks for the men _off_ the battlefield - that was just as well. Skirata saw little reason to deny his boys much of anything.

Skirata didn't bother to ask the lad how he had found the GAR base, or how he knew anything about the clone troops. A _Mando_ desperate for a family could move mountains. Instead he asked, "what do you call yourself?" 

The young man answered, "Dar." 

He seemed to expect some comment about the name, but Skirata only asked, "is that your personal name?" 

"No sir."

"May I ask it?" 

"It's _Verd'yc._ "

"May I call you by it?"

"You may, sir."

\-----

"Ever heard of Kamino?" Skirata finally asked.

Dar held his breath for a beat, and then exhaled.

"Yes sir."

"What do you know?"

"It's where the _vode_ were born."

Skirata noted the humanist language.

"Are. It's where they _are_ born."

 _If you could call it that,_ was a bitter aftertaste that remained unspoken.

Skirata watched the younger man's face actively compose itself through a storm of emotion. His jaw twitched, and his nostrils flared. He said nothing.

Skirata had to break eye contact. His gaze flitted to the wall for a tense fraction of a moment. 

"You have to understand something, son," Skirata bowed his head and took a step toward the younger man.

Dar only held the gaze of the elder _Mando'ad_ expectantly, even though he had paused long enough for a response.

"You can't _save_ these men."

"Is that what you think I'm here to do, sir?"

"Not if you're even half the man I think you are. I'm just reminding you to keep focused."

"With respect, Sergeant?"

Now Skirata raised an expectant eyebrow.

"The _vode_ don't need to be saved. They deserve a life."

Skirata narrowed his gaze, ready to pounce on a presumption, but then the young warrior added: "Same as me."

"You're going to give them a life?" _Kal'buir_ asked, softer than he would have, but still hesitant.

"No, sir. I need one."

Dar felt tension dissipate; he felt a warm smile from _Kal'buir_ which never reached the elder's face. He clapped Dar on the back.

"How old were you at the time of Galidraan?"

"Thirteen."

Skirata gave a sympathetic sigh. He would have offered condolences, if it weren't twelve years too late. Not for Dar's family, who had been lost in the battle, but that the lad had been too young to join them. He understood how being left out of the fight at thirteen must have rankled something fierce.  
  
Typically, young _Mando'ade_ trained from ages eight to thirteen with their family. That made thirteen something of a graduation year. Skirata wondered if Dar's family had been alive to see that day, or if Galidraan had taken them too early. He wouldn't have blamed those _Mando'ade_ for not letting their son fight next to them; not even a _Mando_ wanted to see his son's first battle be his last.

Dar told the elder, "fighting with these soldiers is my duty as a _Mando'ad_. They're my family."

"I understand, _ad'ika_."

Dar worked to keep his face composed. The last time anyone had called him that - 

_Stop._ He shut it out, closed his eyes and remembered the ocean. He focused on waves in his mind; it was how he stopped his face from betraying his feelings.

His eyes were still closed when he heard Skirata speak again in _Mando'a._

 _"Come inside, son._ _Have you eaten?"_

  
  
  


\-----

Dar turned heads in the barracks. He went as he pleased among infantry, and it didn't take long at all for word to get around about him through the ranks _._ He quickly became a minor celebrity among the clone forces. He traveled as widely as HQ would let him, and he rested only little more than the infantry troops. He may not have been _engineered_ for war, but he had been trained for it. He pushed his endurance to the limit.

Dar became a jack-of-all-trades in the field. He could carry heavy weapons with the infantry boys, and he could assist a medic if necessary. He could repair ammo droids, and he could assist elite strike teams. He was ready for whatever needed doing, as long as it wasn't piloting. 

He watched ARC troopers swagger the field, and he felt starstruck every time he caught sight of their distinctive armor. He ate up stories of their exploits with the same awestruck enthusiasm as did the bottom-rung clone troops who expected every day to be their last. 

The Commando squads were like royalty - both on and off the field. They were the prime source of _Mando_ knowledge among clones, since so many of the rank-and-file never got to meet the Mandalorian sergeants of the _cuy'val dar._ Everything filtered down from Commandos. Even the most private and clannish pods recognized the duty to teach their _vode._

\-----

  
  


Dar found that he had a chemistry with most clones he encountered, and he was forward by default. He may not have had the Zeltron pheromones of his fathers, but he had inherited the culture's relaxed attitudes toward amorous encounters. Even though he was a bit of a loner by nature, he was bold enough to flirt with any clone trooper who would let him near. He wanted to kiss every single one of them. He held it as a gravely serious goal, even as irreverent as it may have seemed. If he could provide any shred of happiness for these men, he would. 

Dar took orders well from Clone Commanders in the field. He took orders from even the lowliest ship crew. Every clone was his superior. Most called him _ori'vod_ on account of his size , but many still called him _vod'ika_ , especially when he was at their service. 

For clone troops, the understanding of physical affection ranged from an easy familiarity to suspicion. For some, it was even alarming. Some ignored him, or treated him with pointed aggression when he was too forward with them. 

Some accepted his charms whole-heartedly. Some liked to get romantic, others preferred a more detached affair. Many were simply curious.

Some wanted all of him, and they made real _love_ to him in a way that they couldn't with their _vode_ . Others were infatuated; he was an imposing _Mando'ad_ , gleaming in his stormy blue _beskar'gam_. 

Some wanted him so much that they couldn't even abide his presence. He was too strong a reminder of a life they'd never have. Others had no use for sexuality; they had their _vode_ as family, and their vocation as soldier, and that was enough. 

When Dar arrived at any barracks or field camp, he was an instant balm on clone ranks. He was like a beacon for clones. Regardless of how they felt about him, they knew he'd have their back. He was a _vod._ Often when _vode_ encountered him on the field they would smack their helmet against his; a traditional greeting between _Mando'ade._

He'd never met a clone who wasn't more interested in his _Mando_ kit than his body.

They all knew he was _theirs._ Not as a possession, but a shared resource. There was no lover's jealousy between _vode,_ not over him. He was their _vod,_ but more appealing to many than getting intimate with their own brothers. Some did pair off, or even love each other freely - within pods, especially.

They all knew Dar could always swallow them. Using him could be quick and easy. They could have him in any rare opportunity they could spare. Sometimes a soldier needed a quick release to cool the adrenaline so he could get a moment's rest. 

Sometimes a trooper needed body heat to burn away the world around them. Tenderness could reset a panicked mind, or fortify the broken heart of a grieving _vod_. They were engineered to withstand any strain, but they were still human.

  
  
  


\-----

  
  


By the time he finally met the _jetti_ , Dar had heard plenty about Bardan Jusik. Clones respected him like a _vod._ Dar - orphaned by _jettise_ \- couldn't quite wrap his head around the idea.

The GAR base was alive with excitement. Two Commando squads had been stationed on assignment. Kal Skirata himself had arrived with them, and he spread morale with his footsteps.

The men had a few hours of _udes_ before they'd be back on the field. Verd'yc saw it everywhere he went - clones would often take revelry over sleep. Time spent with your _vode_ while _not_ under fire was rest enough for any clone.

In honor of the visiting Sergeant Kal and accompanying Commando squads, some men began a chant of _Dha Werda,_ and plenty of _vode_ rushed to join - Dar included. 

It had been years since Dar had any opportunity to perform the chant and war dance; he still knew every word, every move. It had been even longer since he'd participated with other _Mando'ade_ . He felt euphoric every time his out-thrust hand landed on a _vod_ instead of slicing the air. 

Verd'yc hadn't felt so free since his boyhood in Keldabe. He remembered learning the ritual in two days, performing it again and again, because it made his body and mind feel free. He remembered his fathers telling him to ease up once he could perform it from muscle memory; it was a sacred thing now. Through the Civil War it had been elevated from traditional war cry to a deliberate ceremonial action that reinforced the connection shared by _Mando'ade._

Dar swiveled his head to catch a view of the _vode_ formed up behind him. He saw the _jetti_ General Jusik standing in rank among the clones. Jusik knew every word. His hands drummed the armor of the surrounding _vode_ with confidence. Onlooking _vode_ outside the ranks had their eyes on Jusik appreciatively. 

Seeing a _jetti_ performing their ritual, Dar's first instinct was rage. _Udesii_ _,_ he coached himself in his father's voice. He let out the breath he was suddenly holding. 

He briefly clasped the shoulders of the _vod_ next to him and broke rank. He stood aside from the chanting, stomping mass of clone troops. The chant continued. As some _vode_ broke away, others would join in. 

Dar could no longer concentrate. He knew he should accept Jusik, but he wasn't prepared for the jedi _here,_ where he felt strangely vulnerable. He also wasn't prepared for how disarmingly handsome Jusik was. He found himself staring. He couldn't help it. Jusik met his eyes and he panicked, looking away. But he knew it was too late. His emotion was probably obvious in the Force to the _jetti;_ he'd already given himself away.

\----- 

_"Verd'ika,"_ Skirata called to him. "You haven't met our _jetti._ _"_

 _Kal'buir's_ gaze told Verd'yc that he was transparent to the elder. 

"Be kind to him, _ad'ika._ He's like a son to me."

Verd'yc's stormy eyes began to soften. He dipped his head, letting his brow conceal the consternation. _A jetti like a son to him?_

Verd'yc understood it soon enough. The _jetti_ effused an eager hero-worship of clone troops that Verd'yc, in his own love for his _vode,_ found terribly endearing. Bardan was a wiry man with a fey appeal in his delicate features. His eyes were always shining. 

Reflexively, he wanted to be wary of the _jetti,_ but no one else was, and he was finding the suspicion difficult to maintain. He observed how Jusik interacted with his men. He was quick to joke, and natural to command. He was generous with praise and gave affection openly. He displayed an understanding of _exactly_ what clones were capable of - both as soldiers and _Mando'ade._

It was a quick and easy comraderie between them, and Dar was as helpless to resist it as he had been hesitant to initiate it. The young man didn't seem anything like other _jettise._ He had an ease about him that was disarming. He wasn't so uptight; he wasn't aloof or disconnected. He was right in the middle of his men: attached.

Verd'yc understood the way clone troopers looked at _Bard'ika._ He also understood the way they found excuses to brush against him, and jostle their bodies together. Their touches were hidden by his robes. Dar wondered if _Kal'buir_ could see it. Verd'yc smiled, and even chuckled to himself wondering if Kal was too straight to see it for what it was. After all, it looked almost indistinguishable from playful, brotherly antics. Maybe he knew and let them indulge. The fraternization was good for morale, and Sergeant Kal's only obligations were to his boys.

When Dar had a moment alone with Bardan - clones were drawn to him insistently - he gave the _jetti_ a knowing wink. 

"You share clone barracks, too?" 

Bardan beamed, eyes lighting up and a grin spreading unselfconsciously over his lips. "Sometimes."

"Sometimes?" Verd'yc asked, containing a grin, his voice warm as honey.

Bardan's smile morphed then, and his bright eyes sparkled, and he licked his bottom lip, and then bit it. 

  
  


\-----

Dar and Jusik bonded over blowjobs in the barracks. Bardan was all eye contact. He stared up at his soldiers and let them use his face however they liked. Verd'yc was too eager. He wanted them all, all at once. When he took a trooper's rod into his throat, he would make them squirm for friction until inevitably they fucked his face. Both the _Mando_ and the _jetti_ could spend all night on their knees in the barracks, with clones lining up for their service.

When he would see Jusik on the field, Dar thought, "I'm glad he's on our side." It was a strange way to feel about a _jetti._ Dar had never appreciated Force talents. He saw that sort of thing as showboating; it was tacky. He'd never seen a _jetti_ with such loyalty to anything as Jusik had for his men. Bardan had won his respect, and there were no other jedi like him.

\------

For a year after Geonosis, no one in the Republic even thought about clone troops. Most people assumed all those troopers were droids.

It was on Coruscant, appropriately, that the people of the Republic began to see the faces of the men who fought in their name. Before long, Galactic City took pride in its retinue of clone security forces. By the end of the second year of the war, there was a bar specifically for clone troops. The soldiers themselves actually got a little leave, with a little pay - thanks to Skirata's diplomatic efforts. 

It was his responsibility to remind the Republic that it wasn't a droid army that had been comissioned, but an army of living men. It was Kal Skirata who helped make it known to the galaxy exactly who was fighting for them. They were men - and they were clones of the last True leader of Mandalorians, not that it mattered to anyone anymore. 

The New Mandalorian government had disowned Jango Fett, and buried the legacy of Jaster Mereel and his True Mandalorians who had fought to preserve the traditional _Mando_ way of life. New Mandalore thought itself above its "violent past". Nevertheless, it would be the clones of that forgotten _Manda'lor_ who were tasked with liberating the planet. Once again, Mandalore would be betrayed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I launched a Patreon! It'll be pretty bare for a while but I'm putting it out there to see if there's interest.  
> Let me know if you have any ideas about tiers, patron exclusives, etc.  
> https://www.patreon.com/darienfawkes


	3. 3 - The Men's Room

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3qjXXzXTTOY5yythzIdT2U?si=sfzdrO2GQj6XwS0UzjSn0w
> 
> Dar's character playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3BjdtO5AlwZITiLXvSRPvF?si=vmxMd7JXRbCKqzOS7MS8GA
> 
> *Ne gedetir - please, lit. “I plead”  
> *Osik - shit  
> *Vor entye - thank you, lit. “I accept a debt”  
> *Re'turcye mhi - goodbye, lit. "maybe we'll meet again"

\---

20BBY, third year of the Clone Wars

-   
  


With a satisfied groan, Dar lifted his hips and fucked himself on a thick, wet dick. He savored the stretch of sensitive muscle pulled taut by a swollen rod. He was bent over, anchored to the wall with his forearms, and driving himself back against the shaft protruding from the hole in the partition.

The  _ vod  _ in the next stall didn't have to do much more than stand still and stay hard. 

They both kept their grunts to themselves in an unspoken maintenance of anonymity. The  _ vod  _ just held on tight, head bowed so as to not even peek over the low stall partition. In lieu of the words he really wanted to say, the  _ Mando’ad _ fucked with his entire body. It was a work out, using the available leverage and holding his balance. He flexed and thrust in rhythmic bursts.

The  _ vod  _ came, and the hunter wasn't even close to satisfied. He liked the clone's broken, muffled groan when he shot, and the shudder of his hips as he rode it. The  _ vod _ stayed half a minute longer. Aftershocks must have still been fluttering through him when he stuffed himself back into his pants and abandoned the stall. He didn't wash his hands.

The Mandalorian cursed. He pivoted, hiked a leg up against the wall and fingered himself. He was chasing a release, but he was too far away; it faded like the sun. He swore and sunk back against the fresher.  _ Now we wait. _   
  


He didn’t have to wait long. Within minutes, he heard the door swing open again. As usual, he expected anyone to go immediately to the wall. Instead, he heard the neighboring stall close and lock. Dar listened to the stream and stroked himself. He knew exactly what he wanted, so he spread his cheeks and pressed back against the hole. He heard the flush of the fresher and then a groan and a swear in Huttese. It was a _vod._

Dar grinned, bit his lip. 

The  _ vod  _ used Huttese to compliment Dar's offered ass, and he sounded pleasantly surprised. Immediately, his breathing became shallow and loud. 

Dar knew that tone, so he wriggled enticingly against the partition. He felt the clone's hands spread his ass and they both groaned. 

The  _ vod  _ didn't even have a chance to put himself away. He teased his firm glans on Dar's hole and continued to swear in astonishment. The  _ vod  _ spit on his hole, and then rubbed his thumb against the tight muscle.    
Dar moaned,  _ “ni gedetir.” _

The clone's wet glans gradually breached his hole and Dar sighed in satisfaction. The  _ vod  _ pressed deeper into him with a groan. Dar answered it with one of his own, letting the trooper know that it was a relief to have that thickness inside him. He let out a whine and he shoved back against the stall, but the  _ vod  _ was taking his own pace. The  _ vod  _ thrust forward into the tight heat, and slowly dragged out again. Dar's body was alight with pent-up energy. The clone continued cursing and grunting while he seemed to acclimate himself to the feeling. Idly, Dar wondered how much this  _ vod  _ knew about sex. He liked thinking that he was introducing plenty of them to the concept. 

_ “‘Lek, vod. Ni gedetir -” _

Dar pleaded, but the trooper didn't change the unhurried way he was stroking his hole.

_ "How many of us have already used you tonight?"  _

Dar didn't speak huttese, but he knew enough of it to follow the  _ vod's  _ dirty talk.

_ "Five? Ten? Tell me." _

_ "At least five,"  _ Dar answered in  _ Mando'a. "Closer to ten - lost count." _

_ "How do we feel to you?"  _ The trooper still used Huttese.

_ "Like home,"  _ the _ Mando'ad  _ answered immediately. _  
_ The  _ vod _ grunted in pleasure and pumped his hips progressively quicker, harder. It began to feel like he was chasing something. Dar gave it back to him; he made the clone growl when he stroked his body on the rod. Dar fucked himself hard, letting out muffled cries when the  _ vod  _ shoved his hips forward in tandem, getting his dick in as deeply as he could. 

_ “Vod, vod -”  _

As Dar spiraled closer to release he couldn’t control what fell from his mouth. He couldn’t find words to describe what he felt. He didn’t have a name, so he just moaned over and over,  _ vod. _

The clone dropped the Huttese. The mood had shifted. The  _ vod _ was able to intuit what the hunter needed. He stalled his own hips for a while, his torso pressed flat against the stall partition. He slung one arm over top of it, and watched the hunter fuck himself on his dick. The  _ vod  _ couldn’t see his face, but it didn’t matter much to either of them. 

The  _ vod  _ was groaning, and muttering little praises in  _ Mando’a  _ - _ “that’s good, ad’ika-”  _ He hummed and moaned while Dar slammed his body back against the stall, making it rattle and shake. The  _ vod  _ growled, his voice breaking to a whine.

Dar stroked himself roughly, and tugged and squeezed his glans, anticipating the  _ vod’ _ s load and hoping to sprint toward his own climax before he lost the clone. He pled in  _ Mando'a, "I'm close, vod. Just a little more - please -" _

_ "I got you, vod'ika, I got you. Osik, ad'ika, the way you clench on my dick -"  _ the vod returned in  _ Mando'a _ and his voice betrayed how close he was. The  _ vod's  _ hips were pumping again; he couldn't help it, he was so close.

Dar groaned and mumbled filth in  _ Mando'a: "fuck me on that dick, vod - hit me so deep - feels so fucking good, vod - want your load in me, vod -" _

_ "Fierfek, ad'ika, the mouth on you -"  _ the  _ vod  _ growled.

_ "Elek! Vod -" _

Dar groaned as he hit the threshold, jerking himself wildly until the wave crested - and crashed. When he spilled, his load hit the wall and dripped from his hand to the floor.

The  _ vod  _ muffled a shout as he felt the hunter's tight muscle squeeze him in urgent spasms, tearing the load out of him in a violent orgasm. 

Then, the room was silent save for the men's labored breathing. Dar would have given anything to fall into the solid bulk of a  _ vod.  _ All he had was the cold wall. The high of his orgasm didn't last long. He could hear the  _ vod  _ putting himself back together. He washed his hands. Before he left the men's room he spoke loud enough for Dar to hear:

_ "Vor entye, vod’ika. Re'turcye mhi." _

  
  



	4. 4 - Rex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3qjXXzXTTOY5yythzIdT2U?si=sfzdrO2GQj6XwS0UzjSn0w
> 
> Dar's character playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3BjdtO5AlwZITiLXvSRPvF?si=vmxMd7JXRbCKqzOS7MS8GA
> 
> Mando’a:  
> Su cuy'gar (Soo-COO-ee-gar) - hello, lit. "you're still alive"  
> Buy'ce - helmet  
> Kandosii - well done  
> Vor entye - thank you  
> alor’ad - Captain  
> K'oyacyi (koy-AH-shee) - (command) lit. "stay alive."  
> shebs - ass  
> shab - general swear word, used here as the equivalent to "fuck."

\----  
20BBY, third year of the Clone Wars  
Republic assault ship _Leviathan_ _  
_  
_  
  
_

_“Oya, Verd'ika! Su cuy'gar!”_

_  
_ Rex didn’t get to use Mando’a very often, but he tried to review the basics enough to keep himself from getting too rusty. This far down the line, not many clones considered themselves Mandalorian. Rex wasn’t sure if he did either, but he liked the idea that he might have some kind of _heritage._ It kept him moving forward when he’d seen too many brothers die, and he needed to push away the thought that their battles for the Republic were futile. This wasn’t just what they had been born and raised for; it was in their DNA, even the parts that hadn’t been designed in a lab. 

  
“We don’t die easy, _alor’ad._ ” Dar responded. 

  
They were walking toward each other down a long grey corridor. The last Rex had heard, the vessel carrying a couple hundred clone troops and their Commanders would take them from a brief leave on Coruscant to Onderon, where they would be training rebels. The mission didn’t sit terribly well with Rex. He tried to keep himself from worrying too much that the Republic was attempting to sideline Kenobi and Skywalker, two of its greatest assets. Catching sight of that battered cobalt _beskar’gam_ was a welcome relief. It meant he could distract himself for a while.

Once they closed the distance between them, the men smacked their helmets together fondly. They stood close and synced their helmets' comms so they could speak privately. Rex admired the jaig eyes painted in an elegant silver on the black forehead of Dar’s helmet.

“When did you get your eyes, _vod_?” Rex asked.

“Second battle of Geonosis, sir. The snipers in the four-five-four took me drinking _and_ dancing afterward.” The innuendo in his tone was clear. “When we got back to barracks, Commander Night painted them for me himself.”

  
“ _Kandosii, Verd’ika._ ”

  
“ _Vor entye, alor’ad._ What brings the five-oh-first to Coruscant?”

“General got us a day's shore leave,” Rex grumbled.

"Condolences," Dar replied immediately with levity, but then regretted it.  
  
He let out a relieved sigh when Rex laughed. Men designed to be perfect soldiers didn't know what to do with rest. They knew exactly how much they needed to operate effectively, and beyond that the concept was foreign. Any moment that a clone wasn't on the field, he was thinking of his brothers who were.

"He's a good one," Dar offered, in lieu of sincere condolences over Umbara.

"The best there is," Rex responded. There was such overwhelming loyalty in his voice that it made Dar grateful they both wore their _buy'ce._ A beat of awkward silence passed in their comm channel before Dar asked, "have you got a moment, sir?"

  
-

Rex sealed them into a storage room on the maintenance floor, their best bet at remaining hidden. They each removed their helmets, setting them aside on the nearest storage crate. Dar moved forward first, the chest plates of their armor clacking together. Dar grabbed Rex’s face in gloved hands. The bulk of his gauntlets and vambraces made the embrace slightly awkward, but he achieved his goal. He pulled Rex’s lips to his and sucked the breath from the Captain’s mouth. Rex set his hands on the Mando’s armored hips and let the more experienced man stoke the nervous fire in his belly.  
  


Every _Mando’ad_ and clone soldier lived and died in their armor. They knew its constriction and heft better than any other possible sensation. But, as the Mando’s lips coaxed Rex and made him bold, his armor began to feel heavier. The snug bodysuit beneath it became almost unbearable against the hot flush of his skin. Rex began to crave something he never had before: touch.  
  
With his lips still firmly attached to Dar’s, Rex began to tug at his own armor, hoping to pull the plates loose even though it seemed his hands had abruptly forgotten every ounce of the practiced movement. Dar’s steady hands intercepted, guiding Rex’s back to his own body, and then taking over the work of detaching the armor plates. The Mando then quickly detached his own vambraces and pulled off his gloves. His bare fingers went directly to the seams of Rex’s bodysuit, peeling away the weatherized fabric. Dar knew his way around clone trooper kit, and he had Rex stripped down in a minute flat. 

They were tucked away in one corner of the room. Even if anyone unlocked the door and stumbled in, they would still be hidden behind crates, the tallest of which were stacked nearly two meters high. He wasn’t sure why, but Dar had expected this to be quick and impersonal. He should have known Rex better than that.

“Strip. Now,” Rex growled.  
  
He quickly evaluated which pieces of the Mando’s kit he could remove himself, going for the belt and attached faulds.  
  
“Yessir,” Dar answered with a smirk.  
  
Dar removed his own chestplate, gauntlets, and pauldrons rather slowly. He watched the clone Captain’s impatient face. His chest was heaving like he’d run a klick in full kit. When the Mando was down to his own bodysuit, Rex tugged the garment over his hips, leaving it hanging just under his ass, with no bother for the thigh plates. He placed his body as close to the Mando’s as possible. His forehead touched Dar’s while his hand wrapped around them both. Dar peeled off the chest panel and sleeves of his bodysuit and let the Captain manhandle him. 

After a moment, Rex stilled, releasing them to catch his breath and let the Mando strip off the last of his bodysuit. 

“This might be a strange request -” he began.

“You give the orders, _alor’ad.”_ Dar reminded Rex who was in charge.

Rex pulled a small disc from one of his gauntlets and set it on a nearby crate. It was a holorecorder.

Dar grinned. “Something to take back to the boys?” he teased.

“I was thinking more for personal use,” Rex answered with a smirk of his own. 

“Mmhmm,” Dar nodded, his hands skimming the scarred muscle of the Captain’s chest. “Wanna keep me all for yourself, huh?” 

Their hips gently rutted, intoxicating, each slicking the other’s shaft as they slid together.

Rex dipped his head to kiss the Mando’s throat, his nose brushing the shell of his ear, and then the tender skin just below it. He used one large hand to tilt Dar’s jaw back so he could brush his lips against stubble. 

“Didn’t think you’d be so gentle, Captain.” Dar’s hands slid across the chiseled lines of Rex’s shoulders.

“Neither did I,” Rex whispered before he guided Dar’s lips back to his own.

The captain seemed to be melting under his touch and wasn’t even bothering to be quiet about it.

Naked now, Dar sat back on the storage crate behind him. Rex's body was still wound with his, and he brought his legs up to squeeze the clone's hips between his thighs. Finally, he escaped Rex's kisses and leaned back, forcing Rex to see how hungry the _rest_ of his body was for him.

The _Mando'ad_ opened his legs, and slid his hands underneath them. His fingers teased his own hole.

"Ready, sir!"

Dar gazed up at Rex wolfishly, demanding.

"You don't," Rex hesitated, "need any prep?"

Propped on his elbows, Dar grinned. 

"I stay ready, Captain."

"Use my name, _Verd'ika_."

"Rex." 

He didn't need to say anything more. He set one hand on Rex's hip, and Rex looped an arm under one of Dar's legs.

Rex wasn't expecting how it made him feel, the man spread open before him, biting his lip and gazing up at him with trust and vulnerability but also a consuming desire. For a strange moment, it made him think of his General - that look.

Rex gasped, sinking into the other man. His eyes fell closed as the _Mando'ad_ opened up and took him inside. Immediately, Dar let out a moan that had Rex clenching his jaw, biting his lip, trying to grab this moment and hold it as long as he could.  
  


Rex held his groans inside, dedicated to their secrecy even though, no one could have heard them from in here. _Verd'ika_ pulled a few out of him before too long anyway. Rex must not have been rough enough for the _Mando'ad_ because Dar took what he wanted with his own body. His complexion like gunmetal in the low light of the storage room, muscles glinting even still as his body made _demands_ of Rex. 

For the one supposedly in charge, Rex didn't feel an ounce of authority in him as Dar's toned body arched and thrust, taking Rex deeply and roughly and however he pleased.

As long as Rex didn't look for too long directly at where they joined - his own warm brown skin disappearing into the deep blue-grey body rocking against him - he could maintain enough composure to get playful, experiment a little. After all, this wasn't an opportunity he got just any day.

Rex raised one of the _Mando'ad's_ legs high, so that it was nearly parallel to his own body. He thought maybe if he took away some of the leverage, Dar's body might take him more compliantly. This was not the case. There was nothing compliant about the _Mando,_ and Rex wouldn't have had it any other way.

"Wait. Hold the other leg instead. It'll look better on the holovid," Dar told him, voice as casual as giving a sit-rep.

Rex took the advice. He tucked the leg close against his chest, and pressed down on the other as it bent at the knee. He opened the hunter up as wide as he could. 

If anything the position just made Dar squirm even more. He angled his hips to take Rex as deeply as possible with his body anchored to the clone's. 

"Damn, _Verd'ika -_ " Rex growled. The view had him practically salivating.

Rex admired the fine silver-white hair coating the Velabri's grey-complexioned body. He followed it with one hand, across the man's chest, and then trailing over his abdomen. His knuckles brushed through the hair above his shaft and teased the silver stubble on the silky skin of his balls.

Dar hissed and moaned at the teasing touch that ignored his stiff, dark cock. Rex's hand stroked his balls and perineum, first with a ghostly caress of his knuckles and then more firmly with the pads of his fingers. He saw Dar's reaction when he touched that spot under his sac, so he did it again. Soon he was rubbing at the sensitive junction with his palm as he squeezed Dar's balls and drove his shaft inside the man with increasing pace and force.  
  


_"'Lek!"_ was all Dar was saying between his moans.

Dar clenched on Rex's shaft, and it felt almost like a hand gripping him, pulling him in deeper. Rex bent to place his chest over Dar's, forcing the _Mando'ad_ to give up most of his rutting as Rex's lips descended to Dar's mouth. 

Dar's breath came in pants that made his abs clench while Rex practically folded his body in half, hovering close above him while still holding both of his legs. Dar could set his ankles on Rex's shoulders, but what he really wanted was for Rex to lean hard against his splayed legs, pushing them to the limit. 

Almost as if Rex could sense this, or read Dar's desperate body language, the clone applied his weight to Dar's legs. He found that a half-standing, half-kneeling stance with one knee up on the crate was the most effective angle to give Dar the swift pounding that he really craved.

_"'Lek, elek."_ Dar groaned and his hands sought out any part of Rex that they could manage: his hip, his forearm, his abs…

Rex helped pivot Dar's prone form around as he finally climbed up onto the crate. Dar was laid out across two of the durasteel boxes now, and with Rex kneeling between his legs, their bodies were angled perfectly under the light of the holorecorder. Dar could tilt his head back and look right up at the small glowing disk, and he did so, making sure to give Rex something good for when he finally got a chance to watch this recording in his own time. 

"Gimme that load, Rex."

The _Mando'ad_ said it in a sighing whisper so sweet it may as well have been a confession of love.

Dar enjoyed being on the knife's edge of his own orgasm when he let his partner come inside him. Sometimes that alone was enough to send him right over. 

Rex shook his head. "No, _Verd'ika._ We're not at 79's. I'm making you come first."

Rex leaned in to kiss Dar's neck, his breath tickling and making the _Mando'ad_ squirm. 

"Maybe even a few times, before I will."

That may have been seen as gentlemanly by some, but Dar only groaned and pouted.

"You're sadistic." 

Rex grinned. "I'm not trying to torture you," he replied, between biting kisses to Dar's throat. "I just want to watch you come."

Dar couldn't help the moan, or the way his eyes rolled back and his body arched.

Rex kissed Dar's forehead, and then he resumed pounding into his lover. It made Dar growl and scratch at Rex's shoulders.  
  


Rex pulled his body vertical again as he held Dar's hips tightly, keeping their bodies flush together. Dar's feet found leverage behind Rex and quickly he was pumping his own hips, fucking himself urgently on Rex's thick shaft. Rex let Dar go at it, wondering how long before he wore himself out. Dar's stamina wasn't the genetically enhanced variety that clones possessed, but it was damn near. 

Rex again pressed his palm under Dar's balls, and the pressure on his prostate was about to seal the deal; he could tell. Dar dropped a hand to stroke his own shaft urgently. Rex watched the _Mando'ad's_ face, brow knit and lip bitten. He watched it become open, shameless, vulnerable, as the other man hit his climax. Lips open, panting, gasping for air, and then bitten again with a moan. His brow arched, forehead furrowed as he gazed up into Rex's face fearlessly. That intensity, that emotion, that pleasure, whatever it was - it was something Rex couldn't even imagine. Seeing it on Dar's face was a little addictive. 

  
  


-

  
  


"Rex, come in. What's your position? Over-" Cody's voice over Rex's discarded comm sounded from the other side of the room.

"Well, it's missionary at the moment," Dar quipped and chuckled, mostly for his own benefit.

Rex looked like he might die of embarrassment on the spot.

Dar held on to Rex when he could tell that the Captain couldn't stop himself from moving to answer the comm.

"Let 'em wait a little longer."

Dar drew Rex back into a kiss. Rex let him, but pulled himself away the next time Cody's voice came over the comm.

"I can't-"

Rex finally swung his body off the crate, feet hitting the floor. Dar stood up after him, still holding the clone by one arm.

"No. You haven't come yet. You still owe me that."

"Well it's not going to happen now," Rex gave one last half-hearted gesture to the comm.

"Want to bet? Sit."

Rex still hesitated, but Dar's body heat was getting the best of him.

"Sit," the _Mando'ad_ told him again, sounding suspiciously like an order. He coaxed Rex's body with his own.

Rex sat. Dar straddled his lap.

"Just hold on to me."

When Dar took him, the look on his face could have fooled Rex into thinking everything was right with the world. He looked so satisfied, fulfilled, at home. Rex knew he'd never love anything in the galaxy the way Dar loved them- and Rex _loved_ his brothers. 

Every time he felt just how deeply he could be embedded in the other man's body, Rex shuddered and moaned. All he _could_ do was hold on to Dar, arms braced at the man's back. His hold was the only thing keeping Dar from the floor as he pistoned his body onto Rex's shaft with abandon. He was holding onto Rex's shoulders, but the way he was leveraging his body against the crate under them was precarious at best. It was that sense of unequivocal _trust_ that would do Rex in.

"Rex, come in. Over."

Cody's voice on his comm again. The clone sounded patient, even though normally he wouldn't have had to call twice. Cody almost sounded bored, like he knew exactly what Rex would be up to but he was making the call on orders anyway. He certainly did not sound concerned.

Rex was panting, holding on to the _Mando'ad_ going wild in his lap. He started to feel a thrill by the next time Cody's voice came through the comm. Dar kissed him, shoving their lips together fiercely.

"Give it to me," Dar growled, more like a threat than dirty talk. 

"Rex? Come on, Rex. I'm tired of calling so wrap it up, okay? I'm doing my best to buy you some time, so do me a favor and get your _shebs_ to the kriffing bridge."

Damn, Cody _did_ know exactly what he was doing. Couldn't hide anything from a brother.

Rex grit his teeth under the pressure of two men demanding that he just _hurry up and come already,_ as if that would work. He dug his fingers into Dar's hips, and bit fiercely down on one shoulder. It made the _Mando'ad_ moan and slow his pace a bit.

"Slower, _vod'ika._ Slower."

Dar didn't grasp the meaning of the word. 

"Stop. Like this."

Rex made him halt entirely, and then demonstrated with thrusts of his own hips how he needed the Mando to ride him. Dar whined a bit but took the order. 

With the other man making slower, steady strokes of his body now, Rex could get his hands under Dar's thighs and lift him enough to limit his movement even more. Dar had to hold tightly to Rex's shoulders now. He could only pump his hips shallowly and squeeze Rex tightly as the clone lifted him up and dropped him down, following his own needs and using Dar for that end. 

_"'Lek. Vor'e, vod."_

The Mando _thanking_ him for taking the reins was just the encouragement Rex needed. His hips instinctively began to lift, deepening the pleasure of Dar's heat. He made shallow strokes inside the man so that when he did finally bottom out, it made them both groan and sent Rex hurtling toward his climax. 

"Close now, _vod."_

" _Wayii!"_ Dar exclaimed with elevated relief.

"Don't ruin it," Rex chided playfully but Dar changed his tune immediately, going back to _"Vor'e, vod, vor entye, vor entye."_

"That's it," Rex coaxed in a honeyed voice that made Dar moan. "Thank me for it."

_"'Lek! Vor entye, Rex. Vor'e."_

"Look at you, so hungry. You won't be satisfied until you've had your way with the entire army."

_"Elek!_ Rex, give it to me, _Rex!"_

"I decide what you get, _vod'ika."_

That did it for the Mandalorian. He was practically vibrating in Rex's steel grip. 

"Oh, _shab,_ Rex! Rex!" 

The Mando sounded frenzied, urgent. Rex thought he might get that second orgasm out of him yet. The clone had the muscle, the stamina, and the patience that they could have gone on like this indefinitely if they had the time.

If they had the time. The thought of what little time they had - not just here in this room, but _alive_ \- is what finally gave Rex the incentive he needed for the final push.

"Make me come, _vod'ika."_

Dar was panting breathlessly between his moans and Rex's name. Rex gave him slightly more room to maneuver, but he was still suspended in the clone's unrelenting hands.

"I know you want it. I know how much you want to. I'll give it to you but I need to feel you come."

Dar rolled his hips to let Rex feel everything inside him, and he caught the moment that Rex's face finally opened up in that way that told him: _there. Just like that._

Dar rode it until he came, spilling between them and on to the crate besides. Rex growled and moaned directly into Dar's ear as he let the waves of Dar's climax coax his own to the surface.

_"Shab, 'lek!"_ Dar growled it triumphantly as he felt Rex spilling inside him, shaft pulsing in satisfying waves. 

They were quiet then, as long moments stretched out and they held each other, panting as they descended from the high.

-

They dressed in silence but for the _click_ of their armor plates locking into place. Their eyes each lingered on each other heavily, taking as much as they could get. They never knew when this time would be the last.

"What are you gonna tell them?" Dar asked, trying to sound considerate but still wearing that grin.

"I have no idea."

-

_"K'oyacyi, alor'ad."_ Dar told him through their linked helmet comm, as they took a final moment together. 

They were fully armored and ready to return to waking life again. They each tried to make that transition gracefully, without letting on just how difficult it was. The _Mando'ade_ touched their helmets together, each holding the other by the neck. They listened to each other breathe over the comm, and their breathing became synced. 

Then the moment came, and they parted.

_"K'oyacyi, Verd'ika."_

Dar nodded. Rex left the room first, turned left, and headed up to the bridge. Dar left a beat later, took a right, and headed down to the hanger.

-

"Cody, I'm on my way to the bridge." Rex finally called back when he arrived at the bridge level.

"Rex-" Cody began, but another voice cut over his.

"Where the kriffing hell have you been?" 

Kenobi never swore. It sounded out of place for him, but the cold, stern tone was unmistakable. 

Rex felt a bit sheepish then, but there was no emergency, so he'd get by. 

-

The bridge doors opened for Rex and a dozen faces clustered around a holo map abruptly turned to him. 

"Sorry I'm late."

"What happened?" Obi-wan defaulted to concern now, despite his strict tone over the comm.

"Sorry, sir. I - uh - I got tied up with something."

"What exactly?"

Rex was only silent for a beat, about to improvise something about droids on the maintenance floor.

"Let's just get on with it," Anakin interjected, shielding Rex from Obi-wan's wrath.

Skywalker would take him aside for questioning before they made planetfall. At that point, Rex could tell the General the truth, and it wouldn't matter. Even if he told Kenobi, the elder would give him a lecture he didn't need about watching his chrono, but he would leave it alone too.

Rex stifled the grin threatening his lips, but had to look slightly past his superior officers to do so.

"Sorry, sir. It won't happen again, sir."


	5. 5 - Hevy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> s/o to this fic for giving me some ideas: Modifications by stellecraft  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/18092351/chapters/42767105
> 
> I guess I had to make up a silly star wars word for cock ring ...
> 
> Mando'a:
> 
> mesh’la troan - “beautiful face”
> 
> shabla shu'shuk - "fucking disaster"

\----

20BBY, third year of the Clone Wars

79's, the men's room

  
  


“Get out here,  _ ner vod _ . I wanna see your  _ mesh’la troan _ !” 

The voice boomed in the small space. Dar recognized it immediately.

“Hevy,” he greeted with a smirk, exiting the fresher stall.

The tall clone shot him a beaming smile, grabbed him on either side of his neck, and smacked their skulls together. Their noses pressed close, they shared a few deep breaths before their lips crashed into each other. 

After a moment, Hevy leaned back to appraise Dar's face and give his body a once-over.

"Let me look at you, huh?" Hevy's voice was mirthful. He made Dar smile. 

Hevy's warm gaze drank Dar in. The Mando's Velabri features were like cut grey marble, the bones of his face angular. His warm grey complexion evoked a thunderhead together with his expressive pupiless eyes. A shock of white hair painted his scalp down the center, from forehead to nape. 

"You look good,  _ Verd'ika, _ " Hevy held him by the shoulders. 

Hevy must have been fresh from the field. A few weeks' worth of stubble lay over the tattoos on his jaw. The bounty hunter touched Hevy's face, and the clone grinned in response.

_ That face,  _ he thought. It weighed on him. It sat on his shoulders, always, that face. They deserved better, each and every one of them.

As if seeing the man's thoughts in his eyes, Hevy pulled him close.

“ _ Verd’yc, _ ” Hevy growled the Mandalorian’s name and set his lips and teeth to his throat, playfully beginning to mark him.

The hunter could only melt in the trooper’s arms. This was exactly why he was here; in the men’s room of Coruscant's "clone bar." To feel this connection to his home; to hear his name in  _ Mando’a _ , to hear it from a warrior, a  _ vod _ . Dar had nothing left of  _ home _ . Nothing but them, a million perfect clones of the last  _ Mand’alor _ . 

But he didn't see Jango Fett when he looked at them. He'd only heard stories of the man who should be  _ Manda'lor _ .  _ Jettise  _ had destroyed him, just as they had destroyed  _ Manda'yaim  _ generations ago, and would again. The  _ jettise  _ wouldn't rest until Mandalore's warriors were a relic of the past. It's why they were all  _ here _ . 

Now it was all they could do to steal a moment to be  _ men _ rather than soldiers, a moment to ease the aching loneliness of a diaspora that could never be satisfied.

-

They stepped back into the 'fresher stall, showing an arbitrary modicum of decency. Hevy leaned back against the door and spread his arms out across the top of it. The Mando dropped to his knees.

When he got the clone's pants down, Dar immediately noticed the piercings. The first sat just above Hevy's dick; a silver bar shorter than the width of his shaft. It accentuated nicely the sharp planes of his pelvic bone. Dar's eyes dragged down the clone's length to admire the silver ring that made Hevy’s foreskin hang deeper than usual. It had the Mando’s mouth watering. 

These were all new to him. It had been several months since he’d last seen Hevy. The trooper had been busy.

Upon closer inspection, Dar found even more piercings. One was another bar through the base of his shaft, on the underside. It was in pleasing symmetry with the pubic piercing. Two more rings like the one in his foreskin hung from the top and middle of his scrotum. The full effect was flattering to his naturally large package.

“That’s not regulation,” the Mandalorian quipped with a smirk.

  
“Damn right it’s not,” Hevy grinned. 

Under the bounty hunter's adoring gaze, Hevy hardened quickly. He was leaking by the time the other man took him in hand. 

“You know I love this dick, right?” he told the clone. 

He suckled on the pierced foreskin, stretching it gently away from the glans with his lips. He could taste the precome inside.

Hevy growled affectionately and mussed the Mando’s spiky hair.

“Oh, yeah. I know how much you love it. Fuck,  _ ori’vod _ , I dream about that mouth.”

Dar chuckled, even with Hevy’s girth filling his mouth. He hummed and let the vibrations of his throat coax the clone into getting  _ loud _ . Hevy had never been shy about his desires. 

The hunter tried not to fantasize too much about the clone bending him over a table in the other room, letting all those eyes watch them. He reached for the trooper’s sac, cupping the balls and teasing the metal rings with his fingers. It made Hevy groan and shove his hips forward. Dar only exhaled through his nose as the glans slid into his throat. The cool metal of the piercing tickled.

Dar slowly sank even deeper onto Hevy's cock until his lips touched the piercings framing the shaft. The sounds Hevy made were worth the slight discomfort. It wasn't much of a sacrifice on his part; Dar enjoyed this. Right now he didn't even need to suck, he could just let Hevy's convulsing, eager hips fuck his throat.

"So good tofor me,  _ cyar'ika _ ," Hevy's voice was low and husky; it was just for him.

Dar pulled off and grinned up at the clone, replacing his mouth with his hands, lest he leave his lover unattended for even a moment.

"Don't get all sentimental on me now, Hevy," he teased, voice light.

The trooper laughed and stroked an affectionate hand through the white mohawk. 

"I missed you,  _ vod _ . You should come fight with the 501st. You would raise morale." 

Hevy wagged his eyebrows suggestively.

The bounty hunter chuckled, "I thought you had  _ jettise _ for that."

Hevy gave a half-smirk that said  _ wouldn't you like to know.  _ The Mando was practically salivating at the idea of a  _ jetti _ servicing clones. 

"That's privileged information."

"Oh yeah? How do I get privileged?" the hunter smirked before setting his mouth back to work.

"Not here. I respect my senior officers."

"Mmhm," his throat rumbled even as he swallowed Hevy's shaft. He sucked it hard, making his  _ vod  _ wince and groan in sharp pleasure before he pulled off again and asked, “does that mean you’re mine tonight?”

Hevy let out a low, seductive chuckle. “I know you,  _ ori’vod.  _ You won’t be satisfied with this dick  _ only  _ in your mouth.”

  
  


-

When they arrived in the hotel room, Hevy assaulted him with an urgent lust that he had contained at the bar. Immediately, the clone was pressed close behind him, grinding on his ass. Dar laughed while the clone kissed his neck. Hevy's hands went directly to Dar's trousers, opened them, and then his fingers slipped inside to touch his skin. He was  _ so  _ eager. 

"Fierfek, _vod_ ," the hunter chuckled.

Then Hevy gripped his shaft and took his breath away. It made Dar's hips  _ roll  _ just like Hevy wanted them to. The clone sunk his teeth into the hunter's shoulder and squeezed at one pec with his free hand. Dar's head fell back on Hevy's shoulder. 

Dar could swear that Hevy knew  _ where  _ and just  _ how hard  _ to grab him. The  _ vod's  _ hands set to him with the same smooth confidence as any other regular task. Hevy's hand on his chest went from pinching one nipple to the other. Then the hand slid under Dar's arm, wrapped across the width of his chest to hold him trapped against the clone's body.

Hevy was going at him so hard and fast that Dar wondered if the man was aiming to get him off in record time. His hips were convulsing between Hevy's warm grip on his shaft and the allure of the clone's hard package still wrapped in his trousers.

Dar knew he wasn't going to get off like this, however. There was too much he wanted. He dropped his hands along Hevy's arms until they caught the clone's wrist.

"You gotta give this a rest,  _ vod.  _ I didn't come here for a handshake."

Hevy bit his ear, and then his neck, roughly. He said nothing, only growled hungrily and stripped Dar's trousers off.

Dar turned and wrapped an arm over the trooper's shoulder. He grabbed the clone in a kiss, dragging his palm along the stubble on Hevy's jaw. 

Breaking the kiss, Dar started to undress Hevy. As he did, the clone told him in a bedroom voice, "I guess I like you a little bit helpless."

"Oh yeah?" Dar asked coyly as he stripped the man to the waist. "You wanna be in control?" He kissed Hevy's jaw, and his hands started work on the clone's trousers.

Hevy grinned, squeezed Dar's hips, and growled a kiss against the Mando's throat.

"I think I just want to feel like you're  _ mine. _ "

Dar smiled and moved his hands behind Hevy's neck, holding his face. Their eyes met for a long moment and then Dar initiated an urgent kiss. Hevy held their bodies close. When the clone was gripping his ass tight enough that he was practically begging Dar to climb him, the Mando pulled out of the kiss to tell him, "I'm all yours,  _ vod _ ."

Hevy bit his own lip and Dar could tell it wasn't lust, but nerves.

"What is it?"

"I got something I want your help with," Hevy replied.

"Oh?"

He had never heard Hevy ask for anything, much less help.

Dar was beginning to fear the worst when Hevy finally told him, "I need you to show me how to use a constrictor."

Dar threw his head back as he burst into a deep, belly laughter. His hands returned to Hevy's unzipped trousers.

"I've got you covered,  _ vod _ ," he answered when the laughter subsided.

Dar dropped to his knees after he stripped off Hevy's trousers. He nuzzled and kissed the clone's package. Hevy offered up a simple leather strap with metal clasps allowing it to be somewhat adjustable. 

"Going basic? I would have guessed you'd choose a triad." Dar teased.

Hevy laughed to cover his discomfort. He'd seen the versions of the device that were constructed of three interlocked metal rings.

"Those look unforgiving," he said in his most even tone. "If anything went wrong, I wouldn't know how to get out of it."

"Getting a simple model for your first time was a wise decision. Well done."

The sincere praise made Hevy feel warm inside. Dar knew how Hevy liked to show off. So he understood how serious a cautious decision was, coming from the ARC trooper. Dar placed the middle of the cuff under Hevy's sac, and positioned the closure atop Hevy's shaft and slightly to one side to avoid disturbing the pubic piercing. 

"It's pretty simple. Get hard before you put it on, take it off if it hurts. Only leave it on for half an hour, and even that's pushing it."

Dar cinched the strap tightly, and Hevy groaned at the pressure constricting the root of his sex. 

"Okay?" Dar looked up.

"Yeah," Hevy chuckled. " _ 'Lek,  _ it's good,  _ vod _ ."

"Good. You can fasten it anywhere but this will be easiest for now. Take it off when you need to."

Dar stood so he could look Hevy in his eyes. "Don't push it too far,  _ vod _ ." Dar warned. He knew Hevy.

" _ Mmhm, _ " Hevy muttered an affirmative, but he was licking his chops and looking at Dar like he was dinner.

Dar stripped off the last of their clothes and turned toward the bedroom. The door that could have sealed it from the entrance antechamber was left open by default. Both men were tall enough to fill the door frame. Dar lifted a hand to touch the top. It had some bulk where it would guide the sliding door. There was enough of an outcropping between the frame and the wall, that it could function as a handhold.

Dar tested it, and he could just pull himself up. He wasn't off the floor by much, but if he pulled his knees up a bit, Hevy could easily handle the rest.

Behind him, Hevy chuckled and smirked. "You always like to get creative,  _ vod _ ."

Hevy braced his hands under each of the Mando's thighs. The clone thrust his hips forward, sliding his wet glans along the cleave of the other man's ass. The cool metal piercing made Dar shiver.

"Give it to me." 

The  _ vod  _ was all too happy to comply. He pressed himself against the offered hole until it accepted him. The metal ring, of a similar size to the hole it gently breached, warmed between them and pressed deliciously back against the clone's glans. The hunter growled as he felt himself being stretched over it, but they both groaned when Hevy's rod slipped in. Dar relaxed his grip to let himself sink down onto it. 

Hevy took up the slack with ease. The door frame idea was more for Dar's benefit than Hevy's. It was good to have something to hold onto in the storm. As Hevy held his weight almost completely, Dar could adjust his hold on the frame to leverage himself against the onslaught. He felt  _ braced _ , and he could just hold on and enjoy the wave pounding into him. 

Hevy was growling between bites to Dar's neck and urgent grunts of " _ lek, vod."  _ Dar slipped a hand around the back of Hevy's neck and tipped his head back against the clone's shoulder. Hevy pounded into him with an almost brutal force and pace, and Dar was moaning from it. The  _ vod _ 's shaft was naturally thick, and even thicker now that it was swollen. Every time Hevy lifted Dar's body and then let him drop back down onto the shaft, Dar felt stretched and full and fulfilled.

Hevy seemed to get more out of the piercing than he did; Dar liked the feeling of it breaching him, but he could barely feel it once it was inside. But whatever it was doing for Hevy was certainly working for Dar. He loved the animal growls and grunts coming from the trooper. 

No one did it quite like Hevy. It was possibly the roughest, loudest, hardest sex Dar had ever had, and he'd had plenty. 

Hevy varied the rhythm of his thrusts, first the standard in-and-out, but then a kind of double thrust followed by a slow pull. He could even pull out completely, and Dar was open wide enough that he could slide back in without assistance. It seemed the  _ vod  _ had honed his craft considerably since the last time Dar had seen him. There was skill now behind his power, not to mention the typical clone trooper stamina. 

It was a roll of the hips that made a sharp thrust into Dar and then a gentle slide out - like a tide crashing and receding - that brought Dar to the brink without his dick needing any attention at all. 

" _ Elek,  _ Hevy, that's it."

The trooper could keep that pattern of his hips going indefinitely, but it only took another few minutes of it to make Dar come. His dick untouched, he spilled on himself and dripped to the tiled floor. Hevy didn't stop; Dar would have to give the order. He let him go a bit longer.

After another ten minutes, Hevy's pace began stuttering and slowing considerably.

"You getting tired,  _ vod _ ?" Dar asked, in a light voice that could have been teasing, but he was gently probing the situation.

Hevy didn't reply, and Dar could tell it wasn't good. He wasn't making those satisfied growls anymore.

"You need to stop?"

Hevy only groaned thinly and clamped his teeth on Dar's shoulder, but this time it was more from pain than pleasure. His thrusts were erratic and shallow.

Dar shoved one arm behind him so that his elbow jabbed Hevy in the ribs. The maneuver knocked a bit of the wind out of the trooper, and he dropped Dar from his grasp. The Mando landed on his feet and turned to figure out what the problem was.

Hevy was leaning a forearm against the door frame and looking positively  _ beleaguered.  _

"Okay. I'm gonna take it off."

Hevy hissed and his left eye screwed shut. Dar knelt, carefully removing the cuff constricting the man's package. Hevy let out a sigh of utter relief. Dar stood, punching Hevy in the chest. 

_ "Shabla shu'shuk.  _ I told you."

"Sorry,  _ vod _ ."

"Don't be sorry,  _ di'kut _ . Just take care of yourself."

After taking a moment to look sufficiently chastised, Hevy moved to kiss Dar. The kiss seemed to win the hunter over. Hevy got him turned around again with a bit of prodding. Dar expected Hevy to pick up where they left off, but the clone apparently had something different in mind.

Hevy hoisted Dar into his arms again but this time moved them to the bed, where he flung the other man down. Dar grunted and laughed. He started to turn over onto his back, but Hevy had grabbed his hips.

"Just stay like that." His voice was playful. Dar could hear the smile in it.

He felt the clone's large hands spreading him open, and then a warm, satisfying wetness when Hevy's tongue touched his hole. He let out a full-body  _ sigh  _ at the sensation. The pleasure overtook him, resonating through him.

Hevy's tongue flicked and prodded his hole, tasting the tight pucker. Dar was quickly moaning over it. Hevy kissed the bud and clamped his mouth over it to suck. Dar descended into curses.

"Damn, you got good with that tongue,  _ ori'vod." _

Hevy only murmured indistinguishably against Dar's hole, making the hunter gasp and whine. The trooper's stubble rasping across the hunter's sensitive taint made him squirm. Hevy spread Dar's ass with both hands and nuzzled his face deeply between the cheeks.

" _ Osik _ , you're gonna make me come again," Dar groaned and he couldn't help but let his face fall into the pillow.

"That's the idea,  _ vod'ika _ ," Hevy replied, a grin in his voice.

Hevy took the moment to grope and bite Dar's ass cheeks before setting his mouth back to the man's hole. He kept spreading him open, diving deep, getting his tongue as far inside as he could manage. Then he'd tease the primed hole with quick flickers of his tongue that made Dar grind back against him.

Hevy kissed the hunter's taint while he spilled his load, body shuddering. The clone could feel the contractions of orgasm rolling through Dar, his hole twitching.

Having already come once, Dar had less to spend this time, and caught most of the load in his own hand. He wasn't about to make a mess he'd have to lie in later. He'd learned that one the hard way. 

Hevy flipped him over onto his back and took Dar's wrist in one large hand. He pulled the hand to his mouth and licked the come out of Dar's palm. It was enough to keep Dar hard and aching. 

"Can you go again,  _ vod _ ?" Hevy asked, already knowing the answer.

"Oh,  _ shab, 'lek _ . You know what I want, Hevy."

Hevy grabbed Dar's other wrist too, and pinned them above the hunter's head. The bulky  _ vod  _ was lying atop him now, the piercing at the head of his dick already teasing Dar's wet hole.

" _ 'lek, vod'ika.  _ I know what you want," Hevy growled seductively and kissed Dar's throat.

Dar lifted his hips, his silent way of saying  _ get on with it, then,  _ but Hevy was too busy kissing him breathless. 

Hevy smiled so widely it broke their kiss. "Ready?" Hevy asked, teasing mercilessly.

Dar smacked his knuckles against Hevy's chest playfully. It didn't stop the clone's barrage of kisses. 

"Hevy, please!"

Finally the clone wiggled his hips until he could feel the right spot, and began to push in. Dar locked his ankles around Hevy's hips, so that once he was in, he stayed in, and he could only pull back so far. He was determined to take hold of the trooper in some fashion for the way Hevy still had his wrists locked above his head.

" _ 'le-ek _ -" Dar drew the single syllable out to two.

Dar captured Hevy's lips again once the trooper started making shallow thrusts inside him. He pushed back as much as he could. He may have only just come but he hadn't flagged at all and he was still just as hungry to have Hevy's rod inside him. He knew he wasn't going to get the angle he wanted in this position, but he liked being laid out under Hevy. He liked letting the  _ vod  _ have control.

Hevy held the Mando down and kissed him purposefully. His hips worked slowly. He knew it would drive the man wild and he'd start begging for it. He could already feel the tension in Dar's muscles. 

"Please,  _ vod _ !"

Dar didn't mind begging. Hevy felt so good dragging out of him slowly. He slid back in easily - oh, but the drag out had friction. Dar squirmed his hips into it as much as he could. 

Hevy growled and snapped his hips against the Mando's ass. Dar let everything out of him in a string of pleasured groans and curses. Hevy finally released Dar and pulled his own body upright. Now he was kneeling between Dar's open legs. He held him by the ankles. Hevy watched himself sink into the man as he propelled himself forward and back, holding Dar tightly against him. 

Dar yelped at the sharp thrusts and moaned at the deep, insistent push. The Mando could feel the pubic piercing against his ass when Hevy ground them together. The pleasure was so intense it made all his muscles clench and flex, which made Hevy shiver and growl. 

"Yeah, squeeze on that dick," the trooper encouraged. He would have dug even deeper into Dar if he could have.

"Put me on top, Hevy," Dar sighed it out like a relief. He couldn't wait anymore.

"My pleasure,  _ vod'ika _ ."

Hevy flipped over in an easy movement and pulled Dar with him. Dar rolled into it, and held some tension in his legs when he straddled the clone. Hevy spread his ass open and drove his cock right in. Dar braced himself against the wall behind the bed and couldn't help his eyes falling closed for a moment.

" _ Shab _ , yes. Give it to me,  _ ori'vod _ . Please.  _ Gedit'ye _ ."

Finally, he started giving it up like Dar wanted. Hevy pumped his hips up into the Mando, hitting him deeply with each thrust. Dar braced his body, and let Hevy pound him from underneath. Once the clone really started to get going, Dar rewarded him with sensual groans and plenty of praise.

"Yes!  _ Elek, ori'vod _ . That's so good, Hevy. Fierfek, you know just how to do it, don't you? So kriffing good,  _ vod _ ."

Hevy growled. "That's it,  _ Verd'ika _ .  _ Love  _ you like this. You look so kriffing beautiful."

" _ Shab _ , Hevy."

"Mmmhmmm," Hevy's chest rumbled. "Give it to you good, don't I,  _ Verd'ika _ ?"

" _ Shab!  _ Fierfek -" Dar was lost save an incomprehensible murmur of every swear word he could think of.

Hevy pounded himself into Dar's body hard and fast now. With the way his hips were pumping, Dar could feel the clone's balls slapping against his ass. A whine started to rise from Dar, as he watched Hevy's face. The man looked so determined, jaw set, teeth bared, nostrils flaring. It was beautiful. 

" _ Verd'ika _ .  _ Verd'ika _ -"

Hevy was panting the Mando's name through his teeth. He held handfuls of Dar's ass, groping it and spreading the cheeks as he drove himself inside. It was everything Dar wanted. Almost.

"You got me so close, Hevy. _Gar kar'taylir meg ni copaanir. Mi'dinur_. _Ni naritir_ _gar gett's_."

" _ Osik _ ! Dar!"

Dirty talk in  _ Mando'a _ worked every time. Hevy pumped his orgasm into Dar, making the Mando sigh when he felt the warm rush inside him. 

"Oh,  _ elek _ , yeah, yeah, that's what I want,  _ cyar'ika. Shab, 'lek,  _ that feels good." 

Dar stroked himself a couple times before he came, looking like he had physically pulled the orgasm out of himself. Hevy was already folding his hands behind his head while Dar convulsed. He only had a trickle of fluid left to give, but he trembled and groaned through the pleasure.

The two men panted together in silence for a moment. Despite that relaxed, post-coital posture, Hevy's dick hadn't flagged at all. Dar still held it inside himself even as he slumped over and leaned onto Hevy's chest. 

Another silent moment passed before Hevy grinned and squeezed Dar's ass. "So you're ready to go again, right?" He was only half joking.

Dar could only give a weak laugh at first; he still felt like a raw nerve. " _ 'lek _ ," he croaked and played up his fatigue a little to go along with Hevy's smile- but only a little. "You know it,  _ ner vod _ ." He made a show of struggling to right himself. He was only half-joking.  _ Kriffing clone stamina.  _

Hevy hollered a burst of laughter and wrapped his arms around the Mando, pinning him back to his chest. 

  
  



End file.
